


Bad Luck Turned Sexual

by Supernatastic



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Blowjobs, Blushing red like a firetruck, Breakfast, Cockles, Cuddling, Cussing, F/M, Family Reunions, Fingering, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Implied Cockles - Freeform, Jared Padalecki's Hair - Freeform, Kissing, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mention of J2M wives, Misha is sweet, Misha thinks he's funny, Not a serious injury, Open Relationships, POV Misha, POV Original Character, Protective Misha Collins, Reader is in denial, Rude fan, Secret Relationship, Supernatural Convention, Worried Misha, dccon, grilled chicken, umm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-07-27 13:49:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7620769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supernatastic/pseuds/Supernatastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are visiting D.C. for a family reunion of sorts to celebrate the life of your recently passed away grandmother when you meet a very special man while out for your morning run. It just so happens you bump into Misha Collins the morning before a Supernatural Convention that you hadn't been planning on attending because of your family plans, but now you just might have to make an exception.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Piña Coladas

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Out For a Jog](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7077220) by [Brenna_Fae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brenna_Fae/pseuds/Brenna_Fae). 



> This is a story I'm sort of basing on my own life, though many of the details have been altered. I will update tags as I post more chapters to avoid spoilers. Just a fair warning, this hasn't been beta'd, so bear with me until I have time to look through and edit it.
> 
> UPDATE:
> 
> Now that Gishwhes is over, I should have an update out pretty soon. I am already working on it, but I am having a hard time getting my thoughts out on the page. Chapter 2 should be up in the next few days, and I PROMISE that Misha makes an appearance finally!

BEEP. BEEP. Your alarm is suddenly demanding attention and for the life of you, you can’t find the snooze button. Always the snooze button. You can never wake up on the first alarm. You always set AT LEAST two alarms, and they each have three 5 minute snoozes. On days when you know that you have nowhere to be, you usually let all the snoozes run out and then sleep for another 3 or 4 hours.  So you have bad habits… so what?

 This morning, however, you did in fact have to be somewhere. So you get up and head straight for the shower, knowing you hair needs as much time as possible to air dry before you leave the house. Only half awake, you shower slowly and the only thing you wash is your hair and private bits. Halfway through rinsing the conditioner out of your hair, the alarm starts incessantly beeping again, and you groan in annoyance. Of course. You hit snooze and forgot to turn the alarm off. Hopefully your neighbor doesn’t get too irritated if you wait until you dry off to shut off the noise. 

Once you’ve gotten ready, you head to the kitchen for some much needed coffee and toast.  You are wearing tight fitting boot-cut dark wash jeans that are rolled up because they are too long, your blue and white polka dot converse, and a simple pink blouse with a flowery pattern. Your hair is naturally curly, so you just put some moose in it and let it be. You looked decently cute, but didn’t overdo it. Just foundation and eyeliner for makeup.

 “You’ll do,” you say to your reflection in the mirror before exiting the bathroom. You weren’t ugly in any way, but you weren’t exactly that attractive either. You were “pretty,” but you were also overweight for most of your life, and that made you basically hate everything about your body (despite no longer being overweight), even if your face was, in fact, cute. Once you have toast and coffee, you grab your suitcase and purse, and head towards your car with keys and food in hand. You hop in the green Toyota RAV4 and start down the road towards the highway. You are headed to Washington, D.C. for a family reunion to celebrate the life of your grandmother who had recently passed. The reunion was being held at some country club or hotel in D.C., but it was a two day reunion so you are headed down there to check into your hotel. You only live three hours from D.C., but it would be too much to drive there and back twice in two days. There was a big convention or something going on in D.C. that weekend as well, so the hotel prices had been outrageous, but you have a decent job and only groaned about it for a few minutes before getting over it.

 And hour and a half on the road and you get a phone call from your sister, Jessie, who is 28.

 “Hello?” you answer the phone like a normal person would.

 “HEY Y/N! When are you gonna be here? Me and David got here like, and hour and a half ago and we are sooo bored. I wanna go to the bar but he said we should wait for you.” Jessie half screamed into the phone.  You wince in pain as she screamed in your ear.  

 “Geez, Jess. Calm down. I’m still an hour and a half out, and that’s not counting the traffic I’m bound to hit on 395.”

 “Okay… Well then I’m going to the bar without you…” Jessie mutters under her breath.

 “Who’s gonna watch the kids?” you ask in reference to your nephews Jacob and Malachi. They were 3 and 5 and could get into a lot of trouble if they were left alone.

 “Adriana is 14, she can handle it. Besides, Nolan loves playing with the boys whenever they see each other. I’ve left them all in Brittany’s room.” Jessie says matter-of-factly. Brittany was your 37 year old sister, and Nolan, 11, and Adriana were Brittany’s children.  You hadn’t seem Brittany and her family in almost 3 years so that was bound to be awkward when you finally got there. 

“Well, I’ll meet you at the bar once I’m checked in okay? Maybe this bar will actually have a blender so I can get a damn piña colada for once!” You hang up with your sister after short but sweet goodbyes and you continue your drive to the hotel in peace, with only your music to keep you company.

 Once you arrive and check in, you head down to the restaurant/bar attached to the first floor of the hotel and quickly find your sister and her husband sitting at a tall table near the back of the bar in a dimly lit corner. You grab a chair and sit with them.

 “Y/N!” your sister says as she pulls you into a tight hug. You hug her back just as tightly, more than excited to see her after a long few months apart.  Your job keeps you busier than you’d like, but it has decent pay and you love what you do. “Wow, I think you look even paler than the last time I saw you. Don’t you ever go outside?” Jessie asks you, chuckling.

 “Only when I have to, Jess. There’s bugs out there.” You sit back down and check your phone again, not that you are expecting any messages. Just a habit. “Got a menu? I’d like to get this ball rolling and start on my piña colada already!”

 “I swear on my life you have an unhealthy obsession with those things, Y/N. They make other drinks you know. Maybe you should try one sometime,” Jessie teases you as the waitress takes notice of you joining the table and begins to head over.

 “Yeah, yeah. Bite me.”

 “I see your third has arrived,” the waitress says to the group. Looking at you she says, “What can I get for you?”

 After she gets your order and brings back your drink, you happily take a few sips while your sister continues to ramble on about how the kids did something cute that morning. But you didn’t hear her over the taste of your drink. Damn it’s good.

 “Y/N! Are you even listening to me?!” Jessie practically screamed at you, still smiling.

 “What? Yeah! Totally… What were you saying?” You smile innocently at your sister, and David laughs when you send a shrug in his direction.

 “I was SAYING… Girl, you are too wrapped up in your career. You never get out and you need to meet someone already so my kids can have cousins that aren’t on the other side of the country! I know you said you weren’t in a rush, but girl you’re almost 30. You know it’s already gonna be harder for you to have children with your condition and all… I’m just saying. You ought to start looking around. You could join a dating site! Worked out great for us, didn’t it honey?” Jessie turns towards her husband in search of agreement for her argument. All she receives is a moan from him in between bites of chicken wings. She looks back to you, mildly annoyed with her husband’s lack of agreement.

 “Hey, I’m in no rush okay? I’m happy living on my own. My roommate is awesome, and if I got married she would have to move out. Plus, no guy wants to listen to me talk about bacteria all day. I’m really not that interesting,” you sip more of your drink and sigh. _Geez I wish she’d just let it go. If I wanted to date I would. Well, maybe if I wasn’t so scared of rejection I would. But that’s basically the same thing, right?_

“Well, at least you’ve got your looks going for you. You lost all that weight after college and you’ve kept it off. I’m proud of you, Y/N,” Jessie says while smiling fondly at you. You had weight 290 pounds at your peak in your third year of college. By the time you started grad school you had gotten down to around 160, and were currently 145. You were the healthiest you’d ever been, and you had picked up a love of running.

“Hmmph. Thanks, I guess. Have you checked out the gym of this place yet? I didn’t have time to look before I came down here. I want to get a run in tomorrow and avoid doing it outside if possible. Like I said… bugs,” you mutter that last part more to yourself than to the others at the table. You really, really hate bugs, despite your roommate being an up and coming entomologist. Dead bugs were okay, but living ones were only a nuisance to you.

“No, I didn’t exactly plan on using it either. I’m on vacation. At least for the weekend. Right, honey?” Jessie blinks up at her husband with mock sweetness. He simply laughs and puts his arm around her. She seems content with his answer and settles back into staring at you.

Two piña coladas and a strawberry daiquiri later, you are feeling buzzed and decide to head back to your room to get some sleep. You preferred running in the morning before the bustle of the world caught up to you, and in D.C., that meant waking up pretty early. You set your alarm for 5:45am, knowing from the brochure on your nightstand that the gym was unlocked at 6am, then slide under the covers and think about what tomorrow would bring. Your grandma hadn’t been all that big a part of your life, but you still wanted to respect her and show support for your family who had been more affected by her death. Saturday, tomorrow, would consist of a more casual family reunion, probably a party filled with old people that would bore you to tears, and then Sunday there was a special church service being held that you wish you didn’t have to go to. _Guess I’ll have to suffer through that…_


	2. Maybe We Could Be... Fans of Each Other?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up for your morning run, and your bad luck takes a turn for the good when a not-so-strange stranger finds you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS! I am so so so sorry that this update took so long! I was stuck half way through this chapter for a while, and I thought about updating what I had, but the story didn't seem to stop smoothly where I was so I had to wait until inspiration hit me. I really love where this chapter went, and Misha is introduced! I probably won't be updating regularly, as senior year of college starts for me in 2 weeks, but I do love this story and I promise to let you guys know how it's coming along. 
> 
> I apologize in advanced for typos and such, as I was so excited to get this up I haven't read through the whole thing yet.

Much too soon, you wake up to the sound of “Heat of the Moment” blaring from your phone’s speaker. You have been using that song as your phone alarm for years now, and you are not able to listen to that song for fun anymore, just like Sam from Supernatural. You hit the snooze button and lay back down for the five minutes until your phone will scream at you again.

There it goes, screaming “Heat of the Moment” again. _Fine, fine. I’m up, okay? Just shutup._ You meander into the bathroom and get yourself ready to head to the hotel’s gym. Wearing athletic cropped leggings, a tie dye blue sports bra, and a loose floppy white t-shirt, you leave your room with your phone, headphones, and room key, and head downstairs to the ground floor. You are all excited to get running when you get to the gym and as you head inside you see two old men using two of the three available treadmills, the empty one being between them.

 _Gross… I don’t wanna use the treadmill between them. Fuck it. I’ll run outside. God, I hope it isn’t hot outside yet…_ You head to the lobby, hoping for your sake that the humidity in D.C. isn’t as bad as it is at home, and set your phone to some kickass music before going outside and doing some light stretching. At six in the morning, there is little going on outside on a Saturday. You find yourself grateful for this fact once you start walking down the sidewalk. You pick up into a jog after a few minutes, giving yourself time to get used to the pace before starting to run. You revel in the blissful feeling of fresh air and adrenaline pumping through your body before you suddenly find yourself flying through the air and down towards the sidewalk. You manage to catch yourself on your arms before getting a face full of concrete.

“Ah, fuck…” you mumble to yourself and you maneuver into a sitting position to assess the damage. You barely register someone running up to you as you take out your headphones.

“Are you okay, Miss?” the man asks as he kneels in front of you to see if you are alright. You look up at him, startled to find yourself face-to-face with Misha Collins, and find yourself unable to speak to him, much less do anything but stare. “Miss?” he tries again, looking mildly concerned at your lack of a response.

You stutter horribly and start blushing slightly from the man in front of you. “I-I-I th-think so,” you manage to get out. You avert your eyes, finding yourself unable to look him any longer. Misha Collins is crouching in front of you and it is intimidating as hell. He reaches his arm out for you to grab, which you hesitate briefly before taking, and he helps you off the ground.

Misha gives your body a once over, and pauses on your arm. “Looks like you scraped your elbow, there. You should get that cleaned up before it gets infected,” Misha puts your arm down, and you blush even further at his scrutiny.

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” you say as you try to turn around before you embarrass yourself even further in front of this amazing man you have fangirled over for years. In your attempt you start to fall, once again, tripping on the same shoelace that had you in the concrete just seconds before.

 “Woah, there!” Misha says as he keeps you from falling again. “Here, let me get that for you.” Misha releases your arm and bends down to tie your shoe for you, which you just now realizes must have been why you took a tumble in the first place. _Damn shoes_. “I have this trick for tying your shoes so that they don’t come undone while you run, and it’s easier to pull out than a double-knot.” You stare at him in shock while he ties your shoes, your eyes gracing the top of his head in slight shock and this turn of events. Misha Collins is _kneeling_ in front of you right now. _Holy shit!_ “There you go. All set,” He looks at you and smiles, all blue eyes and gums, as he stands up.

He holds out his hand to you. “I’m Misha.”

“Y/N,” you whisper, taking his hand softly. He shakes it warmly, grip firm and sure. You find yourself in shock again at how your morning has led you here. You release his hand reluctantly and step back half a foot. “Not really sure where you came from, but thanks for helping me.”

“I was running the opposite direction across the street when I saw you fall. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That was some fall you took. I was worried you were gonna break your head open on the concrete but you surprised me with your agility.”

You blush at the compliment and find yourself unable to speak again for a moment. “Well, thanks again. I oughta get going now. Still got half a run to finish before I head back inside.” You start to walk away from Misha, not trusting yourself not to continue to stare at him if you don’t leave right then. This was the man who played your favorite Supernatural character, not to mention your number one celebrity crush, and you had just seen him kneeling in front of you tying your shoe. Like what the fuck. You’ve had wet dreams about him for god’s sake!

“Aren’t you going to take care of your arm first? I was serious about that getting infected. You don’t know what kind of germs exist on these sidewalks, Y/N.” Your eyes go wide and you blush at the use of your name. It was an odd sensation, hearing your name come from Misha’s lips. You start to turn back to Misha, planning to tell him that of course you knew that you are a scientist, when you feel a sharp pain in your right leg and nearly fall forward into him again. He catches you for a second time and speaks while looking into your eyes. “It looks like you’ve hurt your leg too.” He looks down at your leg and appears to think to himself for a moment, and runs his tongue over his lips, effectively wetting them. “Here, lean on me and I will get you back to where I can clean up that arm of yours,” Misha states while wrapping your arm around his shoulders before you have a chance to give your consent to his plan. “Where are you staying? I’m staying in the Heathman a few blocks from here, but if your place is closer we can go there and get you fixed up. Not sure how far you’re gonna get on that leg.” Misha looks into your eyes with his eyebrows shot up, clearly waiting for an answer from you before he plans to start moving in any direction. You look at him, dumbfounded that he just suggested taking you back to his hotel room. _Holy shit. I know this is Misha fucking Collins, but this screams stranger danger all over it. Then again… It_ is _Misha Collins… I’m pretty sure I’ve had fantasies about being dragged to his ho-_  
  
“Y/N?” Misha interrupts your reverie. You blush at what you had been thinking before he had interrupted you and reply with, “Um, I’m staying in the Hilton. I don’t remember how far that is, but it’s some 10 minutes of running back in the direction I came…” you mutter quietly. _How could you not remember what road your hotel is on? Do you even still have your room key?_ You head shoots up with the last thought and you start patting inside your colorful bra for your room key. You visibly relax when you find it before you realize you just stuck your hand down your shirt while still in Misha’s arms. Your eyes widen and you slowly turn to look at Misha, finding him with an amused smirk on his face.

He chuckles before saying, “My hotel it is then. Come on, we should be there in a few minutes, then you are getting off that leg for a while.” He drags you a long for a few feet before saying, “Come on, Y/N. Put some weight on me so you can keep it off of your leg. You don’t want to make it worse.” You nod at him, refraining from telling him that of course you know all this, being a biologist and all. You find yourself liking that he seems so adamant about your wellbeing, and you don’t want to ruin it by appearing to be a know-it-all. You reluctantly put more weight on him while reminding yourself that he is strong and can handle it. You might not be obese anymore, but your weight is still a sensitive subject for you, and having to put your weight on somebody just reminds you of all of those repressed self-hating things you used to think about yourself.

Misha speaks first, breaking the semi-awkward silence that has been accompanying the slow limp to his hotel. “So, do you usually run with your shoes untied? Or is that something new you’re trying out today?” he asks, his face feigning seriousness.

You find yourself laughing before answering, “Actually no, I do this every time I visit a new city. I want to wipe the streets with my blood, obviously. Claim it as my own. Mark my territory, if you will.” You internally smirk at yourself for your quick-witted response.

“What, peeing on the sidewalk get to old-school for you? Now you gotta bleed on it? I don’t see the appeal, personally.” Misha responds right back, one upping you. _Damn_. _Can’t let him think he’s won this… Gotta say something clever back._

You think for a moment, but after coming up with nothing clever, you simply say, “I think it might be starting to lose appeal for me too.” He smiles at the ground with your response. He stays silent a few more seconds before he stops walking, and you nearly fall for a fourth time, not expecting his sudden lack of movement. He, of course, catches you again and turns you to face him. He searches your e/c eyes with his blue ones for any sign of something being wrong before putting your arm around him once again.

“Why’d we stop?” you ask him, confused.

“This is my hotel. I stopped to turn you towards the door but you decided to fly towards the concrete again,” he acknowledges your fall with a slight chuckle. You swear in that moment you see a sparkle in his eyes. _Maybe I did hit my head if I’m seeing sparkles_. You take a moment to appreciate the blueness in his eyes, not having been able to before because of the overwhelming shock of this whole situation. You noticed he has been trying to walk forwards toward the hotel lobby doors but you were too busy thinking, and probably staring, and didn’t step forward with him.

“You coming, Y/N?” He raises one eyebrow, effectively wrinkling his forehead while he tries to get you moving again.

“Yeah, sorry. I was distracted,” you reply honestly. You don’t, however, tell him what that distraction was.

“Is your leg hurting too badly? I can carry you if you don’t think you can make it any further.” Misha switches between looking into your eyes and eyeing your hurt leg while waiting for your response. And while the idea of Misha carrying you sounds fucking amazing, you know you can walk the 12 steps it will take to get into the lobby so you shake your head no and lean back into him so he can help you walk once more.

You reach the lobby quickly, your leg hurting only when you put too much weight on it, so you end up leaning most of your weight onto Misha, despite him being several inches taller than you. He had been squeezing your waist a little whenever you used your right leg, but started nearly picking you up every step once you made him think your leg was bothering you more.

“I have a first aid kit in my room we can use to clean up your arm, and then we can get you some ice for your leg,” he says as he guides you towards the elevators. You take two steps forwards before you stop both you and Misha closing the distance to the elevators. The sign “Out of Order” posted on the doors, effectively destroying any reason to continue walking towards them.

“Umm,” you say, turning up to look at Misha questioningly. “I’m having the worst luck today, aren’t I.” _Although, running into Misha Collins would definitely be considered good luck, right?_

“Shit,” Misha mutters under his breath, his face looking slightly pissed. “My room is on the third floor.” He looks at you, clearly troubled. “You think you can make it up two flights of stairs on that leg?”

You take a glance at the stairs, then down at your leg, then back up to Misha’s troubled blue eyes before closing your eyes in frustration. _Fuck me. I can’t make it up two flights of stairs. It hurts like a mother just barely putting weight on it to walk this far_.

“I, umm. Maybe?” you mutter unconvincingly in Misha’s direction. He looks down at you skeptically, and gets a determined look on his face.

“Actually, don’t worry about. I’ll carry you after all.” He turns towards you and bends to pick you up, grabbing under your legs carefully, his arm already around your waist lifting you up bridal style onto his chest. _Oh my god. Oh my god. Misha Collins is fucking carrying me_! _/Swoon/._ Misha grunts slightly before turning towards the stairwell. You close your eyes, feeling bad for Misha having to carry you up two flights of stairs just because the elevator is out of order. He sure as hell didn’t get asked to get stuck carrying your heavy body, and boy did it embarrass you. You hold on to his neck for dear life as you bounce with each step he takes up the stairs. You have never been carried like this before, and you have to say, this is pretty fuckin’ awesome despite your embarrassment. You gasp slightly when his hand accidentally slides down thigh, and he smirks at your reaction which causes your face to redden.

“Alright, here we are,” Misha says as he stops to set you down in front of, what you assume to be, his hotel room. He pulls a key card out of his pocket and opens the door, holding it open with his foot while he helps you wobble through the threshold. He helps you to a plush-looking gray arm chair, and then sets your leg on a foot stool before sitting himself down on the unmade bed to your left. He lays down on his back, his legs dangling off the bed, still breathing heavily.

“Outta breath, old man?” you tease him playfully.

Misha sits up, chuckling at your teasing. “Hey, that was no walk in the park okay? Human females weigh more than I remember. And what do you mean, _old man_?” He stands up, pats his thighs, and says, “This _old man_ will get some ice for your leg and then we can deal with your elbow. Be right back.” He grabs the ice bucket from the coffee table and leaves the room in a pinch while you mutter an apology under your breath. You know he was just joking about you being heavy, but it still felt like a punch to the overweight gut.

You’re still chewing on your lip over what Misha said when he returns, bucket full of ice. He grabs a Ziploc bag out of his suitcase sitting on the floor in front of the unmade bed, and fills it full of ice. He hands the bag to you, smiling gently. “Here. This should help with the swelling.”

You reach for the bag, your fingers lightly brushing his as you take the ice from him. You blush at the contact and say, “Thanks, for all this. And sorry about the old man thing, Misha. I was just teasing. I know carrying me up the steps was definitely not on the top of your to do list.” You find yourself unable to look at Misha again, his blue eyes still too intimidating.

“Hey,” Misha says, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him. “Don’t even worry about it. Might not have been on my to do list, but this has been the most interesting thing to happen to me all weekend. And I know you were teasing, Y/N.” He said that last part with a wink as he released your chin and headed back towards his suitcase. You find yourself blushing like crazy after he winks at you, and start playing with your fingers just to have something to do.

Misha pulls some peroxide and gauze out of a simple first aid kit and walks back over to you. “This shouldn’t hurt, but it may feel cold,” he says as he pours the peroxide over your arm. You gasp at the temperature change, and Misha’s blue eyes dart to your e/c ones momentarily, checking once again to see if you’re alright.  “You alright?”

“Yeah, just cold like you said.” He nods at your response and continues to clean your arm, ending with Neosporin and some gauze wrapped around it.

“There. That oughta hold you over for a while.” He looks proudly at his doctor job, then glances towards you, seemingly waiting for you approval of it as well. You smile in response and he drops your arm as he turns towards the clock on his nightstand. “Shit. I’m gonna be late,” he says, noticing the time was nearly 7:40. It must have taken a lot longer than you thought getting back to the hotel room from your running mishap earlier.

Misha darts into the bathroom with a spare change of clothes and you hear him step into the shower. _Is he really taking a shower right now? With ME in the other room?_ A few minutes pass and he comes out of the bathroom with a towel hung quite low on his hips, hair sopping wet. His hip bones showing prominently as he reaches into his suitcase pulling out what looks to be an orange pair of boxer briefs. “Forgot something,” he says to you as he stands up, waving the garment in your direction before heading back to the bathroom. You just stare wide-eyed at him as he leaves the door cracked open and drops the towel to the floor. He’s facing away from you, so you get an eye full of his ass cheeks as he bends forward to get dressed. He starts to turn around, having gotten mostly dressed now, and you turn away quickly, your face redder than it’s been all morning.

You miss it, but he turns to look at you, and smirks at your blush. He dries his hair with a towel then steps back into the bedroom where you are playing with your fingers again in an attempt not to stare at Misha.

“How’re you feeling? Leg still hurting?” Misha questions you while seemingly grabbing odds and ends he needs to leave.

“Umm, a little better. Kinda numb at the moment, though,” you offer.

He walks slowly over to you, chewing his bottom lip. “I’m gonna guess you aren’t up for walking,” he sets his hand on your shoulder gently, looking down at you and continuing. “So how do you feel about staying here for little while until I can come back and help you? I’ll only be gone, like, an hour and half, tops, then I’ll run back up here and see how you are. If you can stay, that is…” Misha is rambling at this point.

You look at him, skeptically, and he grins shyly. “I’m sorry about leaving you here… I have this, thing…” Misha motions with his hand apropos of nothing.

“Your panel at the convention, right?”

Misha’s eyebrows shoot up at that clarifying statement. “You know about that?” He almost seems shocked.

You giggle at his reaction, saying, “yeah, actually. I was thinking about going but I, umm, had a… prior engagement, if you will.”

“Prior engagement?” Misha smirks.

“It’s, uh, a family reunion of sorts.” You blush slightly and his hand sliding down your arm a bit, still grasping you firmly, but gently.

His next statement is full of sincerity, but also something else you can’t quite place. “Well, sorry for keeping you from your family. I’m sure they miss you.”

You snort at his reply and mutter under your breath, “trust me, this is much more interesting,” but apparently he hears you and gives you his mega-watt smile, gums and all.

“I can’t say I’m sorry to hear that. Their loss is my gain, for sure,” Misha says matter-of-factly.

“What?” You question him.

“Y/N… I thought I was being pretty obvious before, but I guess I need to say it.  I _like_ you. And now that I know you’re a fan… I was hoping to get to know you a little better… maybe we could be… fans of each other?” He raises his eyebrows at you slightly and moves his other hand to cup your cheek and uses his thumb to tug your bottom lip out from between your teeth you hadn’t even realized you’d been chewing nervously. Your blush deepens at this level of intimacy and he laughs gently.

“If your blushing is anything to go by, I’d say you like me too, Y/N. Am I right, or am I just reading too much into this because of how beautiful you are?” Misha moves his head closer to yours, forcing you to look at him.

You shake your head out of his grasp, shocked at his words. “I-I, am definitely not beautiful, Misha. Though it’s kind of you to say that.”

He grabs you gently by the chin with one hand, causing your eyes to meet his blue ones again, while his other hand gently places some stray hairs behind your ear. “No, Y/N. I meant it. You are beautiful. And I’m sorry that you can’t see how much I think so.” You sigh, and he places a swift kiss on the corner of your mouth. “I hope that when I come back you are still here, and I can show you how beautiful you really are.”

Misha stands up with this and starts looking around until he lays eyes on something across the room. He grabs the hotel pen and notepad and scribbles something down on it quickly, and hands it to you. Meanwhile you are still staring at him wide-eyed from his last words.

“Here. If you need anything at all while I’m gone and I don’t answer, call this number. They have a key to this room and can get here quickly in an emergency. Now, give me your phone for a second.” Misha holds out his hand so you can take the paper with the phone number on it, but leaves his hand there until you give him your cell phone. He takes it and seems to be doing something when you hear another cell phone ring. It’s just a boring iPhone ringtone, and it doesn’t ring for long before it stops.

“There. Now I have your number, and you have mine. Call me first if you need something. I can’t promise I’ll answer, but I’d like you to give me the chance to first.” Misha smiles at you warmly with that. You lick your bottom lips, slightly stunned at how quickly your morning has become so entirely ridiculous before you realize something.

“Misha, I haven’t said even said I would stay,” you point out blankly.

He smirks again, but doesn’t look at you right away. When he does, he says, “I guess I was sort of hoping, but you’re right. If you don’t want to stay you don’t have to.”

You look at him kindly. “No, I want to.” He smiles with this admission and makes his way back to your face with his hands, cupping each cheek gently, pulling your mouth up to where his is waiting, kissing you firmly on the lips. His lips are warm and soft, despite being slightly chapped, and you relish in the feeling of him.

He breaks away first, saying, “I’m really glad to hear that.” He stands up and caresses your head fondly. “I really do need to get going. I’m already 5 minutes late for my panel as it is. Good thing it’s in this hotel and I won’t have to travel too far.”

He smiles at you and hands you the television remote. “If you get bored, just watch tv. Or, hell. Order room service, I don’t care. Just so long as you’re still here when I get back I’ll be happy.”

You blush one more time before he slips out the door, leaving you with your thoughts and the television.

_What in the Hell just happened?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love comments so please let me know what you thought! And if you have any suggestions for what to come, I am all ears.


	3. Theory Confirmed…Sort of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Misha gone, you're only left with you and your thoughts. That is until you find yourself flat on the floor again, with no choice but to find out who the mystery number Misha gave you belongs to... wouldn't want to pull Misha away from his fans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so sorry this update is over a week late! I have started the fall semester of my senior year of college, so updates will probably take me a bit longer to finish since I have a lot of difficult courses. But I love this story and I am not stopping yet!
> 
> Not super duper happy with this chapter, but I needed to get it out of the way so I could move on to some more fun stuff! Expect a Misha POV chapter in the not-so-distant future. Teehee.
> 
> Just wanted to point out that this is a work of fiction, and that this is basically an AU where Misha is in a open relationship with his wife... so no cheating!
> 
> This isn't beta'd and I haven't even read through the whole thing once... so bear with me until I get to it. :P

With Misha gone, you start thinking clearly again. _Oh my god. Misha kissed me! Twice! He called me beautiful. I can’t let myself believe that. Why would he want me of all people? I’m just a nerdy klutz he picked up on the side of the road._

You frown at your musings, trying not to let yourself get too attached to where the situation could be heading. Misha had said he intended to _show you_ how beautiful he thinks you are when he returns… Wonder what that could mean. You hadn’t dated much in your life, so even these interactions with Misha left you nervous and unsure. _I wonder what Jessie would think of all this… Maybe I could tell her at the family breakfast._

“Shit!” You fumble around looking for your cell phone, and see that the time is now 8:30 am, and that “family breakfast” was supposed to start soon and there was no way you were going to make it there. 

You dial Jessie’s number from memory, scorning everyone who relies too heavily on their contacts to call people. She answers on the third ring.

**“Hello?”**

“Hey, I need a huge, huge favor.”

**“Oookay? What is it?”**

“Umm, I’m not gonna be able to make it to breakfast this morning… and I need you to cover for me when mom and dad start asking questions.”

**What? Why not?**

“I, umm…” _Shit, what should I say? I don’t_ _wanna mention Mish-_

Jessie interrupts your thoughts, **“Y/N! Did you meet someone?”**

 _How did she know?_ “I, yeah,” you groan inwardly at her uncovering your secret. _Am I that obvious?_

**Y/N! I am so, so happy for you! Yeah, I will totally cover for you. Are you with him now? What’s his name? Is he cute? Wait, when did you meet him?**

You shake your head at you sister’s line of questioning and place your forehead in your hand. She could be a handful sometimes.

“Umm, yes,” _she knows who Misha is I have to pick another name… Umm…_ “M-Matt,” _that works_ , “yes, and this morning.”

 **“Wow, you work fast. You should bring him by later so I can meet him and tell you if he’s _really_ cute or not.”** You can imagine your sister attempting to wink at you and you chuckle at the image, not taking her proposition seriously.

“We’ll see. Thanks again. I’ll catch you later,” you hang up and set your phone down, then promptly pick it back up again. You stare at Misha’s number in your phone, and decided to enter it into your contacts as “M,” just so you can have it, but no one else who might look through your phone will know who that is.

The urge to urinate suddenly hits you hard, and you groan at the prospect of having to walk, or limp rather, to the bathroom on the other side of the hotel room. You look around for something to help you walk, but upon finding nothing, you decided to hop.

You make it to the bathroom thanks to your hopping, and manage to go, and wash your hands without any issues. You glance at yourself in the mirror and shudder at your wispy hair falling out of your hair tie and your face which was still blotchy from pain and exercise. Splashing some water on your face, you feel slightly better, and decide to try and make it back to that squishy gray armchair on the back wall of the hotel room.

Taking a deep breath, you start hopping back, and make it about one-third of the way there before tripping on your OTHER shoelace and falling flat on your face. Again.

You feel a sharp pain shoot up your right leg, knowing you probably aggravated the injury from your previous fall. You knew you needed more ice and definitely some help getting up. With a bit of effort, you manage to turn over and sit up. You grab your phone out of your pocket and contemplate calling Misha to help you back up. Surely he wouldn’t answer, being in the middle of his panel and all. _Even so, I don’t want to risk him leaving his panel for me… all those crazy fangirls would die in their chairs._ You fiddle with the phone number in your pocket, pulling it out and staring at it for a moment before deciding to dial it.

 _I wonder who it is I’m even calling_ , you think to yourself while the phone rings absently. Five rings go by, and you start doubting this person, whoever they are, is going to pick up at all. Instead, a raspy, **“Hello?”** sounds from the phone and you gasp in surprise.

You most definitely weren’t expecting Jensen Ackles to be on the other line.

Still in mild shock, you don’t reply, and Jensen doesn’t appreciate this.

 **“Hello?”** Jensen tries again. You shake yourself out of your faze and think about how to start this conversation because, well, these were strange circumstances.

“Um, Jensen?” you start.

**“Who’s this?”**

“Umm, well, I’m a friend of Misha’s, and he gave me your number just in case,” you shift slightly, causing a sharp pain in your leg and you hiss through your teeth at the feeling.

**“Hey, are you okay? What did you say your name was?”**

“S-sorry. Y/N, my name is Y/N. And yeah. I’m, well no. Not really. That’s kind of why I called you. I sort of fell and now I can’t get up because I can’t use my right leg… Misha said you had a key?” you get out quickly, breathing shallow now from the pain in your leg. _Surely Jensen thinks I’m nuts or something_.

**“Wait, you’re in Misha’s room?”**

“Um, yes? Laying on the floor, actually. So if you could-,”

**“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right there just hang tight.”**

You hang up the phone and sigh extensively. _Thank god_. You weren’t sure for a minute there if Jensen was going to believe you or not, but he was coming, that’s all that mattered now.

Accepting your defeat, you lay back down on your back and try to get semi-comfortable, not quite sure how long it would take Jensen to reach you from wherever he was coming from.

You didn’t wait long before you heard someone fiddling with the door knob. When the door finally opened, you peek through your eyelids at the tall, freckled figure standing in the doorway staring back at you with wide eyes. You snicker to yourself, _guess he didn’t actually expect me to be in here laying on the floor_.

“Y/N?” Jensen questions as he closes the door and makes his way over to you semi-quickly. He kneels down in front of you and helps you to sit up.

“Yeah, that’s me,” you state matter-of-factly. Jensen was very attractive, undeniably so, but you weren’t nearly as fazed by his presence as you were my Misha’s earlier. You even find yourself able to maintain eye contact with him for longer than a few seconds without having to divert your eyes.

“What happened?” he asks before trying to move you.

You explain the situation, and he helps you back over to the gray armchair, allowing you to limp at his side instead of carrying you like you feared he might.

Once he has you settled back into the gray armchair and ice back on your leg, he leans against the dresser and looks you up and down skeptically.

“So…” he starts to say.

“I take it Misha didn’t mention me before he went downstairs? He gave me your number in case he didn’t answer, since he is doing his panel this morning,” you attempt to explain to the green-eyed man still staring at you.

Jensen crosses his arms and his ankles, still looking at you. “Actually, he texted me this morning, but as I was still asleep when you called… I didn’t read it until after you hung up.”

He steps towards you, holding out his phone so you can read the message Misha sent him.

It reads: **Hey, Jen. There is a beautiful, injured girl sitting in my hotel room with your phone number in her hand in case she needs anything. I take it you can handle this responsibility? Also, hands off. She’s mine. Thanks ;)**

You look up at Jensen, eyes a little wide with a blush creeping up the back of your neck and settling upon your cheeks. He chuckles at this and places his phone back in his pocket.

“So, ‘beautiful, injured girl.’ How did you end up here anyways?

You go through your morning, not leaving out anything, including the old men on the treadmills that caused you to run outside in the first place. He chuckles at that, as well as when you mention Misha carrying you up the stairs like a damsel in distress. You do not, however, mention anything that happened after you got to his hotel room. That belonged to you and you alone. And maybe your sister, later…

Jensen grunts while mulling over your words before getting up and walking towards the hotel phone located on the nightstand by Misha’s bed.

“I don’t know about you, but I still haven’t had breakfast. I’m sure Misha wouldn’t mind buying us both breakfast since I assume you haven’t eaten either given what you’ve told me about your morning so far.” Jensen says while picking up and dialing the number for room service on the phone. He orders himself scrambled eggs, bacon, and some pancakes, then looks to you with eyebrows raised as if waiting for your order.

You stare at him blankly, trying your damnedest to think of some sort of breakfast food on the spot. Your eyes flick back and forth wildly while your mind fails to think of anything, and you just stare back at Jensen lost, with your mouth hanging open.

He giggles at this and says into the receiver, “Actually, just make it two of those,” and then hangs up and pulls the desk chair over to you and sits down next to you.

“So… Misha?  Really?” You blush at his question, knowing he is probably trying to lighten the mood a little, but feeling awkward nonetheless. “So are you a fan or is he just some handsome stranger to you?” He asks you a single eyebrow raised.

“Aha… I am a fan, actually. Have been for a while. But I swear meeting Misha this morning was totally random, I wasn’t stalking him or anything, I swear.” You feel the need to defend yourself given the circumstances. Some people might think you had planned the whole thing on purpose just to get a chance to interact with the famous actor, and you hope Jensen isn’t one of those people.

“Woah, calm down, I wasn’t suggesting anything. I just find it interesting that you seem okay talking to me, but every time I mention Misha you blush like a fire truck,” Jensen says calmly. He is currently smirking at you, but in a gentle way not meant to be mean.

“But, um, yeah. Handsome not stranger I guess you could say. Though to him I am just a random stranger. burdening him with my freakin’ leg all screwed up because I can’t tie my fucking shoes.” You shock yourself with switching back to cussing in from of Jensen. You don’t meant to be this… transparent in front of him, but he doesn’t seem at all deterred by your sudden crossover into vulgarity.  

He reaches over and pats your shoulder reassuringly “I’m sure he doesn’t see you as a burden, Y/N. If he didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be sitting in his hotel room right now. Of that I am certain,” Jensen smiles at you softly, squeezing your shoulder before letting go and leaning back out of your personal space.

You think over Jensen’s words, still not believing them yourself, despite the current circumstances. Sure, Misha helped you then and felt bad for you so that’s why he brought you back to his hotel. He _had_ offered to take you back to your own hotel, but you couldn’t even remember where it was. He’s probably already gotten another room to get away from you and not have to deal with you after he rejects you.

You are still sitting in your thoughts, mulling over your morning, when there’s a tap at the door and Jensen opens it to find the breakfast he ordered has arrived.  

You watch him out of the corner of you eye, still unable to escape your dark thoughts.

What you can’t seem to wrap your head around is why Misha seemed so upset at you not believing you were beautiful, or that Misha thought so. _Why does he want to show me how beautiful he thinks I am? What does that even mean?_ You shake your head, unbelieving, and you look up to find Jensen standing in front of you holding out a plate of eggs, bacon, and pancakes smothered in maple syrup, clearly waiting for you to take it from him so he can sit and eat from his own plate.

You take the plate and start eating in a comfortable silence. Well, not comfortable so much as unnoticed. You are still too deep in thought to think about having a conversation with Jensen.

 _I don’t understand why Misha says he likes me. I mean, I’ve only just met the man… and while I know stuff about him he knows next to nothing about me… Maybe he is partially blind and that’s why he thinks I’m beautiful…_ Your mind from there switches to thinking about sharp, blue eyes, and soft, warm lips pressed against yours. You blush at this memory, and stick a fork full of eggs in your mouth to occupy your hands. You know there is no real future with Misha, obviously, he’s married. _Oh my god he’s fucking married! What am I even doing here!_

You feel the dark tendrils of shame creep up your body and settle on your shoulders. You suddenly feel too empty inside to eat, and set your fork and plate down on your lap and look up at Jensen, who is staring at you with raised eyebrows.

He doesn’t say anything at your lack of eating, and continues to eat himself, clearly waiting for you to make the first move in this awkward moment.

You decided to make things awkward for Jensen too, just because you can.

“So, Jensen. I’m curious. Does Misha kiss you often or is that just something you do during panels?” you cross your arms and look at Jensen with a wide smile, chuckling slightly when he nearly chokes on whatever he had been chewing when you asked him that question.

Once he gathers his bearings, he sets his nearly empty plate down and avoids your gaze.

“Misha’s just a little handsy, that’s all. If you saw half the shit they want to put in the gag reel…” he trails off, sneaking a glance at you as he finishes. You continue to look at him skeptically, not believing this to be the real story.

“Mhmm. Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll be sure to mention that to him when he gets back so he can confirm.”

Jensen’s eyes widen with your statement and he visibly stiffens. He groans and pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers before facing you again.

“Look, don’t… mention it to him. He’ll probably just make a stupid joke about it anyways. There’s nothing going on between me and Misha. At least, nothing serious. But, don’t… tell anybody. That’s not exactly something we want advertised.”

You look into green eyes, less gorgeous than Misha’s blue eyes but definitely still breathtaking, and see the sincerity there. Jensen seems genuine in his response and you can’t help but be a little shocked. _Did Jensen just admit to some Cockles action? Holy mother of Eve. And he asked you not to tell anybody! Shit!_ Your E/C eyes shift to Jensen’s left hand, and the ring sitting on his fourth finger.

“What about your wives?” you ask him before you can help yourself. This was really none of your business, but you just had to know. You couldn’t stand a cheater.

“Well, I’m sure you know a thing or two about Misha and his wife, they are pretty… Lax, I guess. And Dani, she’s totally okay with it. So, don’t go getting any ideas about someone cheating on someone. I wouldn’t do that. WE wouldn’t do that.”

You nod at his explanation, grateful to the nth degree that Misha and Jensen both had their wives blessings to do… whatever it is they do together.

“Which also means, that you don’t need to feel guilty or worry about anything that might happen between you and Misha. His wife probably already knows about you. She isn’t the jealous type.” Jensen explains.

You look at him confused. “I-I don’t know what you mean… there’s nothing going on-”

“Y/N,” Jensen interrupts you. “Don’t play dumb. He has a thing for you, and you definitely have a thing for him. I can see that as clear as day. The only question is, how lo-” Jensen is cut off by the sudden click and swoosh of the door to the hotel room opening.

Misha is standing there smiling brightly, but you see his smile shift suddenly to a pensive, guarded look.

He lets the door shut, his eyes immediately drifting towards you and your propped up leg, and begins to make his way toward you in earnest.

“What happened?”


	4. Slip of the Tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misha leaves for his panel and has an interesting time dealing with some personal fan questions and almost let's slip a little too much information about what made him late for his panel...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to start off with apologies for taking so long to update. I was both busy and procrastinating, since this chapter was from Misha's POV it was a little harder for me to write up. However, I am pretty pleased with it but I don't think I'll be returning to his perspective for the rest of this story. I find it a lot easier to write from Cas's perspective, as I know a lot more about HIM than I do about Misha... but I digress.
> 
> I also want to apologize for this chapter being so short. I just really had a hard time but promise the next one will be a bit more, enthusiastic ;)
> 
> Here is a link to Misha's Chicon 2016 panel mentioned in this chapter, just the first 10 minutes (you'll understand what I'm talking about): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ymc-UBUPS4o
> 
> Also, as I am writing this note, my cat, named MISHA, is getting into all sorts of trouble and knocking things off the table... sigh. So here I am shouting "MISHA!" while also writing about a different Misha. 
> 
> Anyways, please enjoy this chapter. The following chapter will return to the reader's POV.

“I’m really glad to hear that,” Misha says as he stands up and caresses your head fondly. “I really do need to get going. I’m already 5 minutes late for my panel as it is. Good thing it’s in this hotel and I won’t have to travel too far.”

He smiles at you and hands you the television remote. “If you get bored, just watch tv. Or, hell. Order room service, I don’t care. Just so long as you’re still here when I get back I’ll be happy.” _Fucking thrilled, actually_ , Misha thinks to himself.

He sees the blush that creeps up your face just as he shuts the door behind him.

 _Please be here when I get back_ , Misha pleads to you from inside his head, already making his way down the hallway to the elevator before remembering it was out of service then changing directions and heading for the stairs.

He makes it to his panel 10 minutes after he was scheduled to start, and he can hear Rich and Rob cracking jokes about what mysterious circumstances could potentially be holding the actor up. He was pretty sure he also heard the remnants of the “Where’s Misha” song they sang when he showed up in the Trump mask at the convention in Chicago earlier this year.

Misha waits behind the curtain as he hears Rich saying, “Perhaps he’s made a new friend and they’re discussing braiding techniques for Jared’s hair.” Rob’s laughing can be heard over the speakers with this statement.

Misha decides now is the perfect moment to leap onto the stage gracefully, and he rips the microphone out of Rob’s hands.  “Actually, we were discussing how to persuade Gen to cut off his hair while he is sleeping, sort of as a Samson and Delilah arrangement, but she was worried that Jared’s hair was the power behind his impressive height and upon cutting his hair he may shrink down to Rob’s height, and nobody want’s that.” The screams from the crowd at his arrival causes most of Misha’s musings to be not heard, but Rich was standing next to him and easily quips with, “Just imagine Sam and Dean hunting a monster and Sam always is the one to gank the monster while Dean distracts it because he is so small nobody can see him.”

Misha laughs into the microphone along with the rest of the crowd at this, and then Rob and Rich quickly make their goodbyes and officially introduce Misha to the stage to start his panel. Misha missed most of the introductions, however, because he realized he forgot to let Jensen know that he had given you his number in case of an emergency. So he turned around momentarily and shot off a quick text while Rob and Rich were making their exit.

It read: **Hey, Jen. There is a beautiful, injured girl sitting in my hotel room with your phone number in her hand in case she needs anything. I take it you can handle this responsibility? Also, hands off. She’s mine. Thanks ;)**

Misha smirks to himself as he sends the message, knowing it was important to clarify to Jensen that he was NOT allowed to touch you, because that was something he wanted for himself and himself alone.

Rob and Rich gone now, Misha makes his way over to the single brown suede barstool in the middle of the stage and picks up his designated microphone.

“Sorry about my tardiness. My friend and I couldn’t stop going on about Jared’s gorgeous locks. Having had the pleasure of running my fingers through long hair before…” Misha pauses when he hears too many giggles from the audience. “Because I used to have long hair, not because I run my fingers through Jared’s hair!”

With this the audience erupts into laughter and Misha decides now is a great time to start asking questions. He goes through several questions on each side of the room, things going smoothly until he hears a ding come from his pocket, clearly indicating a text message.

“Oh, sorry about that, hold that thought,” Misha jokingly says to the girl currently complimenting Misha on his portrayal of Lucifer while he reaches into his pocket and looks to see who the message is from before turning off the ringer. He had left it on in case you needed to call him, knowing that he might not feel his phone vibrate in his pocket.

Seeing that it wasn’t from you, and was from Jensen, probably a snarky reply to the message he had sent previously, he left it alone and put the phone back in his pocket.

“Sorry, where were we?” Misha gestures for the girl to start again.

Three more questions pass without any hang ups, Misha successfully answering and not answering each question at the same time. The audience was eating it up. Then, a young woman stepped up with a look on her face that immediately spelled trouble. He could sense it as she stepped up the microphone, the smirk on her face giving away her dubious plans to ask Misha something probably awkward or embarrassing.

“Hi,” Misha says to her into the microphone.

Her smirk widens into a grin. _Uh oh_ , Misha thinks.

“So, I had a pretty great question about Cas’s character development during season 10, but given recent events I can’t seem to stop wondering, what REALLY made you late this morning?” the girl raises one eyebrow at Misha while the audience sort of groans in unison at the personal question that, while everyone really wanted the answer to, would have never actually asked.

 _Can’t say I didn’t see that coming,_ Misha thinks. _Time to save face, I guess._ “What, you don’t think I was actually late because I got caught up discussing the prospect of removing Jared’s hair?” Misha pauses, and for some reason makes the decision to be sort of honest with the girl and hopefully make her feel bad for asking. “Haha. Well, you caught me red handed I supposed. I was actually helping a friend of mine with some personal issues that I’m sure we would both rather not bore you with right now, but I appreciate you asking. I’m sure she appreciates your concern.” _Shit, why did I just say she?_

Misha smiles at the girl, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and the crowd is still full of murmurs as she walks back to her seat. He inwardly groans and the turn of events and mentally chastises himself for almost revealing too much information about you. He really ought to be more careful about opening his mouth, because as much as he would love to tell everyone about the beautiful, injured girl in his room, he doubted you, or anyone else besides the audience, would really appreciate that information. Sure, his wife wouldn’t mind. That was the first thing he did after bringing you to his room. When he stepped into the bathroom to shower he had shot a few texts to Vicki and had received both approval and encouragement from her. That being said, not everyone was as amazing and opened minded as his wife, and probably Jensen and his wife too… _Focus, Misha._

He suddenly thinks of Jensen’s text again, and is now extremely curious as to how the younger man responded with the news of you in his room. Shaking his head, he moves onto the next question, an older lady, probably still younger than him, though.

“Hi,” Misha smiles kindly at her.

“Hey. I hope your friend is okay. She is very lucky to have someone as compassionate as you standing by her.” The lady smiles at Misha with sincerity.

Misha looks down at his hand in his lap and thinks, _No, I’m the lucky one._ “Thank you,” he replies.

The rest of the panel goes by without any more awkward questions, and he manages to make one girl squeal in delight when he jumps off the stage and gives the nervous girl a hug in the question line. He loves making people uncomfortable, but just as much loves helping people have memorable experiences not plagued by anxiety. He isn’t sure which of those he accomplished by  hugging the poor girl, though.

Rob and Rich come back onto the stage, and declare Misha’s panel over, and while Rob plays the outro for Misha to exit to, Rich pauses next to Misha and whispers in his ear, “Can’t wait to hear about why you were late this morning,” and then turns to leave with a wink in Misha’s direction. Misha chuckles at this while making his way down the steps to sign the big posters flanking each side of the stage.

It was at this moment he decided he couldn’t wait any longer to see what Jensen had said, as it was becoming increasingly apparent to him that he never received a call from you, so you were either safe and sound or had decided to leave.

Upon opening his phone he sees this text from Jensen: **You’re right, she is beautiful.**

Eyes widening, Misha decides to book it back to his hotel room, skipping heading to the green room and saying hello to everyone before disappearing.

Why did Jensen know what you looked like? Had you needed something and decided he wasn’t worth it and to just call the number to help you? Or were you simply looking for help escaping without letting Misha know? Or maybe Jensen was curious after receiving that text from Misha and decided he wanted to check out for himself just how beautiful you were. _Shit. Maybe getting Jensen involved was a bad idea_.

Now worried that Jensen or himself had scared you off, Misha takes the stairs two at a time till he lands in front of his door, placing a smile on his face while trying to open the door so as not to clue anyone in on how distressed he was actually feeling, assuming there was still anyone left in the room to fool.

When he opens the door to you sitting on the gray armchair with fresh ice and an unpleasant expression on your face, he immediately drops the happy façade and runs over to you.

“What happened?” Misha calls out while heading your way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to be clear that I have not ever been to a supernatural convention (but I will be going to SPNNola next October!) so all of my knowledge is mostly through watching conventions on youtube, so if I implied something totally wrong please forgive me.
> 
> Comments and Kudos make me smile! And I don't mind asking about updates, because honestly it's those comments that make me start writing the next chapter sometimes... :D


	5. Whatever you want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misha returns from the panel to find you and Jensen sitting in his room. He is happy you stayed and you finally get to find out what he meant about showing you how beautiful he thinks you are...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS I FINALLY UPDATED! Finally, the smut I've been promising all along. I hope y'all enjoy it. This is unbeta'd and I didn't even read through it before I posted, so it probably goes in and out of tenses. Apologies in advance.

Misha is standing there smiling brightly, but you see his smile shift suddenly to a pensive, guarded look.    
He lets the door shut, his eyes immediately drifting towards you and your propped up leg, and begins to make his way toward you in earnest

“What happened?”

"Oh, umm…” you start to say, not sure how to word what happened while Misha was at the panel. 

Luckily, Jensen could sense your struggle and took over explaining as Misha reached your side and brushed your hair behind your ear with his thumb, gently.

“She called me about 30 minutes ago. She fell trying to cross the room and couldn’t get back up.”

Misha’s eyes widen and his gaze goes from Jensen back to meeting your eyes. This causes you to blush and look away in guilt. He obviously knows you didn’t call him and you can’t help but feel a little guilty for not listening when he had asked you to call him first. 

“Y/N, why didn’t you call me?” Misha pleads with you. His expression shifts to one of hurt, and this only makes you feel worse. It hadn’t been your intention to hurt Misha by calling Jensen, you just hadn’t wanted to take him away from the fans.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to bother you, Misha. Would you have been able to answer the phone anyways?” You question him, earnestly seeking out his forgiveness with your eyes. Misha is opening his mouth to reply when Jensen speaks up again.

“Hey, it’s not a big deal, Mish. You were busy, I wasn’t. No harm done,” Jensen smirks with this. “Plus I got to know this lovely young woman and it was really quite a pleasure.” Jensen locks eyed with you and winks, and this makes you giggle a little. Unfortunately, Misha is unamused by this comment and turns his back on Jensen, ignoring him for the moment. 

“How are you feeling now? Did you hurt yourself further when you fell?” Misha switches from annoyed to caring so fast it feels like whiplash. But also it’s really sweet, and his worry for your well being makes you smile.

“I’m fine, Misha. I only called Jensen because I didn’t want to hurt myself trying to get up. My leg really is feeling a lot better now. I could probably even get up and walk back to my hotel,” you start to get up from the chair to show Misha that you are fine now, but he swiftly cuts you off with a desperately cried “No!”

Misha’s hands shoot out in front of him like he is trying to stop a runaway horse from escaping. Once he registers his own outburst Misha drops his hands almost immediately and takes a step back. “Unless you want to,” Misha all but whispers. “Go back to your hotel, I mean. I have no problem taking you back if that’s what you want.” The disappointment leaking from Misha’s voice is almost unbearable, and you respond quickly with the goal of making him smile again as soon as possible.

“No, no, I don’t. I-I just...wanted to show you that I’m okay.” You reach for Misha’s hand, in an attempt to reassure him. He allows it, and you take his hand and press it on your leg where you injury had been, much to Misha’s confusion. “See? No heat, swelling has pretty much gone down, and I am not feeling any pain right now.” Misha squeezes your leg for a moment and then moves his hand to cup your face, pointing your eyes in his direction. Feeling the need to reassure him, you place your hand over his. “Really, Misha. I’m fine. And I don’t want to leave.”

This causes that perfect, gummy, mouth watering smile to find its way back to Misha’s face, and you are delighted by the sight of it. Misha must be delighted to because all of a sudden he is swinging his leg over yours and is now sitting in your lap, facing you. 

“I’m so, so glad,” he whispers to you as he brings his face closer, until your lips are only centimeters away from his. For a moment the two of you just breath the same air, no one making that final move until you can’t stand it any longer and close the distance so your lips are now pressed together. The kiss instantly gets heated, for once you are taking the lead and you press your tongue against Misha’s lips, seeking entrance. He grants your wish immediately and now you are taking in the taste of Misha, heavenly against your tongue. He tastes both exactly how you expected and completely different. His mouth is warm, and you feel welcome there.  One of Misha’s hands slips from your face to the base of your skull and his grabs a handfull of your hair to adjust the angle of your head, deepening the kiss all the same.

About the time Misha pulls off a bit and nibbles at your bottom lip, you hear the door shut softly.  _ Jensen must have let himself out _ . You find yourself extremely grateful for this as you let out a moan and Misha hoists you up so you have your legs wrapped around his waist. He carries you over to the king sized bed, dropping you on your back and then climbing up on top of you, legs and arms cradling your body. He sits back on his heels and takes your face into his hands once more, lifting your lips back to his. You kiss for several for minutes before you start to squirm underneath him, his erection tenting his jeans. 

“Misha,” you manage to get out when you both pull back for air. 

“What is it, Y/N? What do you need?” Misha breathes into your ear. Your hands have found their way to his back, fingertips brushing under the hem of his shirt, itching to feel.

“Show me.” He places a kiss behind your ear.

“Show you what?” His mouth moves to the base of your neck, and he starts sucking.

“How beautiful I am.” With this Misha stops what he’s doing with his mouth and promptly sits up to look at you. “You said before the panel-”

He stops you mid sentence with a chaste kiss to the lips. “I would love to show you how beautiful you are, if that’s what you want.” 

You find yourself unable to speak anymore, so you simply nod in reply. He shifts slightly before taking your hand in his and looking you straight in the eyes. “Y/N, I don’t want to do anything you are uncomfortable with, and for me that means I really need your consent. Verbal consent. Okay?” His eyes are pleading and sincere, and it makes your heart swell in your chest.

“Okay.”

“Can I touch you?” Misha moves his hand to hover over the hem of your pants, and you feel a spike of arousal at the prospect of what is about to happen. You nod vigorously before remembering Misha just asked you to verbally consent to everything.

“Yes, oh god yes. Please,” you flush at your own sudden neediness and Misha simply smiles and places another kiss to your lips before lifting your shirt up and placing kisses over all the skin his mouth is able to reach. 

Misha hands suddenly reached the waistband of your exercise tights, and he gently slips his fingers into it so he can pull them down. He manage to grab a hold of your panties as well, so now they were both being pulled off of you and you were naked from the waist down. Feeling suddenly shy, you press your thighs together and draw your knees up, almost on instinct. Misha notices you growing tense and pauses, eyebrows raised, looking with his bright, blue eyes directly into yours. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, relaxing your legs again. You hadn’t had a lot of sex in your adult life, especially not with someone so damn attractive. It was intimidating the hell out of you. 

Misha smiles, pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek. “Nothing to apologize for. We’ll take this as slow as you want to go.” Misha’s reassuring tone helped to tone down your anxiety, and soon you found yourself reaching for his head, hand on the back of his neck to pull him down into another kiss.

You continue kissing, deepening with every thrust of your tongue, and you let out a slight yelp when Misha’s hand dips to your folds and starts rubbing your clit. You are slightly ticklish and the journey his fingers took to reach your sweet spot caused you squirm under him. 

Using his thumb to circle your swollen nub, he inserts his index finger between your folds and is quickly surrounded by tight, wet heat. You lift your hips off the mattress, keening towards the feeling. 

“You’re so good for me, Y/N, so wet. 

Misha thrusts his finger in and out of you, never letting up on rubbing his thumb over your clit. To your surprise, his head bends down to between your thighs and as he inserts a second finger you feel the warm wetness of his tongue dip between your folds, him mumbling something about the exquisite way you smelled. After a few strokes of his tongue, you find your hands reaching up to grab a hold of Misha’s soft brown locks, almost as if to anchor yourself, remind yourself that he was real and this was truly happening.  No one had ever gone down on you like this, and you couldn’t deny that this was the hottest thing you’d ever experienced. 

Misha stopped with his tongue and reached his head back up to place a kiss on your lips. You could taste yourself on his tongue and holy shit that was probably the hottest thing ever, screw being eaten out. Getting to taste yourself on Misha’s tongue was way better. 

Misha began thrusting faster, eagerly swallowing your moans with his lips and your crested towards the edge, final destination in sight.

“Come on, Y/N, let go. Come for me,” Misha whispers, voice hoarse with lust, and that’s all it takes to push you over, coming with his name on your lips. He coaxes you through, only stopping his ministrations when you shudder from oversensitivity. In your post orgasm haze, you notice Misha never even managed to take his clothes off. This leaves you disappointed, but not enough to break the spell. Misha lays down next to you, running his fingers lovingly through your hair. You allow yourself a moment to pretend this is real, not just a fling with a famous actor.

As you shuffle to cuddle closer to him, you notice Musha is still completely hard, and you immediately feel guilty. You reach down to undo his pants and help him take of that, but he stops you gently by grabbing your hands a placing a kiss on the back of each of them. 

“Don’t worry about me. I have to leave soon for autograph signings soon anyways. Let’s just enjoy this for a moment.” He helps you get your clothes back on right, and you both lay there comforted by each other’s presence until Misha’s phone rings and his handler tells him it’s time to head back to the convention. He kisses you, hard and deep, and you moan into his mouth as he pulls away. 

“I’ll be back soon, Y/N. Hour and a half, tops. I hope you’ll stay till then.” Misha’s blue eyes plead for you to remain, and you nod in answer, unable to deny this amazing man anything. He smiles at this and heads out the door. Once he’s gone you flop back down in the bed and go through the day’s events in your head another time. You were still kind of in disbelief about it all, but as you spent more time with Misha you began to accept it as real.

You got to to find your phone which was left by the arm chair a while ago, and found that you were able to walk just fine, as you had suspected earlier. You probably wouldn’t be running for a few days, but walking around wasn’t going to be a problem. You tidied up what you could before settling back down on the bed and texting your sister, so she wouldn’t worry, and then you found yourself tired and laid your head down.

You must have drifted off because the next thing you know you are being awoken by a beautiful, brown haired man with blue eyes, and you smile immediately. For a moment there you’d thought it had all been a dream, but looking into those eyes, clear as the sky, proved otherwise. 

“Did you have a nice nap?” Misha chuckles as he asks you this, clearly amused that your previous activities had tired you out so much. 

You roll over to get a better view of him. “Hmm, yeah. I did.” You show him your prize-winning smile and he responds by placing a quick, soft kiss on your lips. 

“I missed that,” he says before goig back in for another. 

You giggle, making the next kiss nearly impossible. “It’s only been like two hours, Misha.”

“I know, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you the whole time I was signing autographs. I also couldn’t stop thinking about how hungry I am. I kind of skipped lunch. Do you wanna order dinner?” Misha punctuates his question with another kiss and by wrapping his arms around you tightly. You squeeze back, content to lie here forever, but nod in reply to his question. You could definitely go for some food. 

He orders you both something off the menu, but you didn’t really pay enough attention to remember what that was because you were laying by his side, running your fingers over his chest while he orders from the bedside phone. Once he hangs up you manage to convince him to take his shirt off so you can feel him properly, and he lets you do that while he talks to you.

“So you know what I do, but I don’t know anything about you, Y/N. I’d love to know more than just your first name.” Misha grins down at you and kisses your forehead. 

You look up at him and smile back before answering. “Well, my last name is Y/L/N, and I’m a biologist. I work in a research lab and I almost became a doctor before I decided I didn’t like people enough to work with them that much,” you pause and press a kiss to one of Misha’s knuckles, “I have two sisters and two brothers, both of my sisters are married with kids, and my parents are still together even though I thought they’d get divorced as soon as we all left the house.” You shrug at this, not sure how to make sense out of your parents mess. 

“Are you the youngest?” Misha questions you, surprising you by actually paying attention to what you had been saying. 

“No, I’m the 4th, but only 3 of us really grew up together, so I’m basically the middle child. My sister is 1 year older than me and my brother is 5 years younger than me. I’m 27 if I didn’t mention that before.” 

“I’m 42,” Misha says.

This makes you giggle. You were a fan, of course you knew how old he was, but you appreciated him telling you anyways. “I know.”

Misha’s eyes light up and he bends down, kissing you on the mouth like he hadn’t just done so a few minutes ago, tongue seeking entrance. When you finally pull apart for air, Misha is still smiling. “Your laugh is the greatest sound I’ve ever heard.” You blush at this, and the food decides to arrive at that moment, as you hear a polite knock on the door. Misha separates himself from you and answers the door, still shirtless, to get both of your dinners. He tips the bellboy and then brings two trays over to the bed. Apparently he had ordered you both a salad and grilled chicken with asparagus. Your mouth waters at the smell of the delicious food, and you both eat, taking turns talking more about yourselves as you finish the meal. 

Misha takes both trays and places them on the table by the door, then settles back onto the bed with you, taking you into his arms once more. You’re both laying there content into the silence when suddenly an idea pops into your head. You grin wickedly to yourself before sitting up and throwing your leg over Misha’s lap so you can sit on him. He seems surprised, but does nothing to deter you, simply raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“I think it’s time for dessert,” you say simply. Misha looks confused at this, and opens his mouth to reply. “I didn’t order any dessert. I can if you want, they have some options,” Misha starts to reach for the phone again, apparently he wasn’t understanding your meaning, and you grab his hands before he can get too far.

“No, Misha. My dessert is right here.” You release his hands in favor of rubbing your hands over his toned chest, stopping to swirl your thumbs over his erect nipples. 

Misha replies with a simple, “Oh.”

Your hands dip further, and when you reach his waist band, you stick your fingers inside but don’t move to take his pants off, instead you lock eyes with Misha. “You made me feel good earlier, now I want to make  _ you _ feel good.” Misha smiles, eyes gone dark with lust, his blue eyes only a small ring around his blown pupils.

“Whatever you want, Y/N.”

Oh, you wanted. You unmount him and remove his pants and boxers in one swift move, taking them off completely so as to leave him naked beneath you. 

He grins down at  you as your take in his gorgeous body. You knew he was a runner, but even if you didn’t his muscular legs would have made that obvious on the spot. His thighs were toned and thick, and you wanted to run your hands over them and lick and kiss and nip to your heart’s desire.  _ Fuck it, I  _ can _ do that. _ You run your hands over his thighs, taking in every curve and turn of muscle. You place kiss after kiss, and once you lick a stripe up his leg, to which he gives a responding moan. This makes you feel more confident, and you have him spread his legs so you can sit between them, giving yourself better access. 

His cock was hard and leaking, laying up against his stomach. You tentatively reach out, grabbing it at the base, and give it an experimental stroke, pleased when Misha’s hips buck up into your hand. He lets out a breathy moan as you continue you stroke, giving a little twist as you reach the tip, and you rub your thumb over his slit where precum had leaked out. You bend down and press a kiss to the tip before taking the head into your mouth and swirling your tongue around. He tastes absolutely divine. You can tell he’s having a hard time not moving, and his hands move from gripping the sheets to wrapping fingers in your hair. He doesn’t try to move you, just settles into a comfortable position grasping your head. You take more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks on the way back up. 

“Oh, god, Y/N. Just like that,” Misha’s grip increases, and you find you like the resulting pain in your scalp, and you moan around his cock. His hips give a little jerk with the vibration, and you find yourself smiling, well as much as a smile as possible when your mouth is full of Misha’s hot member. You take him in as far as you can, the tip pressing against the back of your throat as you move up and down. It doesn’t take long after this before you can hear Misha’s breaths start to become more erratic and he attempts to pull you off of him. Knowing this must mean he’s about to come, you take him down into your throat and swallow repeatedly until he’s coming white hot down your throat. You swallow every drop, coming off him with a wet pop, followed immediately by pressing your mouth against his so he can tasted him in your mouth. He moans into the kiss, and you wrap your arms around his neck, content to kiss him while he basks post orgasm. 

You’re cuddling and talking again a little while later when your phone rings. Misha has his underwear back on, but he’s still shirtless and you couldn’t be happier about that. Misha eyes you while you talk on the phone, as it was your sister calling to tell you that people were starting to ask where you were and she suggests that you head back to the hotel so you can mingle and set people’s worries aside. When you hang up Misha is still looking at you, clearly expecting some kind of explanation.

“That was my sister,” you sit up with this, grabbing Misha’s hand in yours, and he squeezes back reassuringly. “People are starting to get suspicious about me ditching, and she says I need to head back and save face.”

Misha, being the understanding guy that he is, nods before leaning forward to kiss you. “I understand.” He kisses you again. “You came here to be with your family, and I’ve been keeping you from them,” Misha sounds guilty as he says this, and it hurts your heart. 

“No, Misha. I really didn’t want to see them anyways. But I do need to make an appearance. I don’t regret any of this. I would gladly do it all over again.” You smile reassuringly up at Misha and he smiles back, guilt leaving his face incrementally. 

Misha glances over at the alarm clock on the bedside table, and it reads 5:40pm. You had eaten dinner fairly early. “If you want, you should come back tonight, after you see your family. I want to spend more time with you, Y/N. Get to know you better.”

You’re more than a little surprised at Misha’s offer, not having been sure what exactly it was you two were doing today. “Okay,” you reply, unsure of what else to say. You are elated that he wants you back, especially after that blowjob. You weren’t well versed in the art of seduction, but he wanted you to come back so it must not have been too bad. “I’ll come back later, around 10. That should be enough time with my family. They usually go to bed early anyways.”

You gather your belongings, which is really just your phone and your key card, and you look down at your clothes, blushing. “I’m still wearing my running clothes,” you mutter in Misha’s direction. You were self conscious of the outfit when you’d put it on this morning when no one was around, and it was making you anxious knowing you’d have to walk all the way home in it as well. 

Misha stands up and hands you his jacket. “Here, wear this home. I’d walk you, but I’d probably get mobbed before we made it to the lobby doors.” He shrugs at you, clearly torn up about not being able to escort you home, but you understand and give him a kiss on the cheek before stepping through the doorway. “I’ll see you later, Misha.” He smiles at you as you shut the door, and you have a spring in your step the entire walk back to your hotel. 

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme know what you think! Comments always appreciated!


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